Uneven Odds
by twilightsgrace23
Summary: After unimaginable horrors in her youth Bell finally has her life back together. The scars have healed, she's almost finished with medical school; everything is great. Until she meets Edward; a bartender in her best friends home town. What starts out as good time quickly turns into more and with the end of summer coming the decisions she will have to make will threaten everything.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Edward

My father always said there were two kinds of women in this world, ones you could easily tame and ones that would leave you broken. I knew instantly what kind of woman she was. She was the kind of woman that would leave you broken and bloody on the floor and still begging for more.

I knew from the moment I saw her walk into the bar that I had to have her. There was a light about her that cut through the gloom and misery of the bar, illuminating the place the way no neon juke box ever could. And in the land of honky tonk and country music, that said a hell of a lot.

Her mouth had a stubborn quality, like she could argue with you for hours and never get tired of fighting with you, and the determination in her eyes told me she would never lose.

Her and the girl she'd come in with, walked up to the bar. "What can I get you ladies?" I asked over the roar of the Georgia Satellites pouring out of the jukebox.

The taller of the two leaned across the bar, her light blonde hair falling over her shoulder. "What would you recommend?" she asked in a sultry voice.

I laughed as I picked up a glass and began pouring alcohol into it. The juke box shifted from the Georgia Satellites to a rocking Chris Young song. "Well," I said, "It depends."

"On?"

"What kind of trouble you ladies are looking to get into tonight," I said with a lazy smile at her friend.

The blonde glanced over her shoulder at her friend who shrugged. "Well," the blonde said. "What would you offer if I said we were looking to get into lots of trouble?"

"Sex with the bartender," I replied.

The brunette's mouth fell open in a delicate little 'O.' She shook her head no as the blonde slapped the bar and said, "When and where?"

I laughed again, more to be polite than anything. That was definitely not a new one. I added the ingredients, some rum, strawberry schnapps, a splash of cranberry juice and topped it off with orange juice, then slid the drinks across the bar. "Thirteen even sweetness."

She slid a twenty across the bar and winked. "Keep the change." Grabbing the drinks, she turned and shoved one at the brunette. Together they wandered off toward the pool tables. I watched for a few minutes, then turned my mind back to the throng of people trying to get my attention.

With one eye on the brunette and her friend and one on the bar, I made drinks on autopilot, watching her sit back and watch her friend get all the attention. There was something about her that made me think she felt like either she was above all this or maybe that she was just content to sit back and observe.

At that moment, she looked up, her eyes meeting mine, and smiled, ducking her head as her hair hid her face.

"Hey, man, pay attention!" a voice said from behind me. I ignored it and kept watching the brunette. Hands belonging to the voice punched my arm. "Edward, come on, pay attention."

I turned and looked at my best friend and co-owner, Jacob, and smiled. "Sorry man, hot chick at the pool tables is checking me out."

Jacob rolled his eyes and poured a shot of whiskey for a tall guy in a cowboy hat. He slid it across the bar and moved on to the next person. "She's not checking you out," Jacob said matter of fact. "She was checking me out."

"The hell she was," I snorted. "You look like the wrong end of a pig."

"And you don't?" Jacob laughed.

"Hell no, man, I'm the finest looking thing in here."

Jacob shot me a look that said we'd see about that. He climbed up onto the bar and held his hands to his mouth, shouting out, "Hey!"

The noise in the bar kept going, people drinking, Blake Shelton crooning out of the juke box, laughter and a few yells from the pool table area.

"Hey, you assholes, shut the hell up for a second," he yelled.

A few people turned and looked, seeing Jacob on the bar, they quieted down and hushed the people around them.

"There, that's better," he said. "Look here, me and Edward got a problem. You see, he thinks this pretty little blond," he looked across the bar trying to find her. "Wait, Edward which one is it?"

I ignored him and he looked again, shrugging. "Anyways, he thinks she was checking him out, and I say she was looking at me, which lead Edward to say he was the finest thing in the bar tonight. I want you ladies to decide, who's better looking; me or Edward. The winner gets bragging rights for a year, loser buys a round for the bar."

Rolling my eyes, I climbed up onto the top of the bar. "How you planning on deciding who wins, genius?"

"Whoever gets the loudest screams and I don't want any dudes screaming at me," he said. "Ladies only."

I punched him lightly on the arm and smiled wickedly. "Alright, Ace, go for it."

Jacob smiled broadly. "I'll go first, on the count of three, ladies, ready; one, two, three."

The bar erupted into a mass of screaming females, holler, whistling and stomping their boots on the floor. Jacob turned to me, a smile on his face like he knew he'd already won.

I nodded, rocking my head as if conceding defeat. Jacob clasped my shoulder and bent to his adoring fans. "Not bad," he said. "But we still gotta give old Edward over here his fair shake."

I grabbed the hem of my tee shirt and waited as he counted to three, on three I pulled the shirt over my head and spun it above my head like a dancer from that cheesy male stripper movie a few years ago. The bar erupted into a cacophony of catcalls and whistles, the whole lot of women going crazier than a cat in a bathtub.

I turned to Jacob, shrugging unapologetically. "Sorry bro, but I believe I won."

"Asshole, you cheated."

"Be more specific next time," I laughed, jumping off the bar and pulling my shirt back over my head. The women in the bar groaned simultaneously and flocked to the bar. "Come on down ladies, come get your free drinks from the sexier bartender in the place."

Jacob shot me a dirty look before jumping down off the bar. I looked up and right across the bar from me stood the brunette and the blonde.

"Ladies," I said smoothly. "Did you enjoy your sex with the bartender?"

The blonde leaned across the bar, "I sure did," she purred.

"What about you?" I inquired, leaning close to the blonde and focusing on the brunette.

She nodded slightly. "I did. It didn't have too much alcohol. It was good. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Can I get you something else?"

"I guess so."

"On the same lines, kinda fruity?"

She nodded and I began mixing her a drink Jacob had dubbed it the Woo Woo drink after these spring breakers who'd come in last year and once they had a few drinks in them, their favorite words became woo, woo!

Luke Bryan came on the juke box: Woo Woo!

Some couple put on a wicked two step routine: Woo Woo!

Their girlfriend got sick and puked on the pool table: Woo woo!

I gave it to her and watched her take a sip. "This is good," she said between sips. "What's it called?"

"I call it Can I get your name and number please?"

A red flush washed across her face, she ducked her head, hiding her blush.

"I swear, I'm not a stalker or a crazy person, I'm just a guy who works in a bar and saw a girl that I'd like to get to know a little better."

She looked up, squared her shoulders and smiled. "Got a pen?"

Holy shit, I thought first, then, fuck, do I have a pen?

I scrambled around behind the bar for what felt like forever, then my hip vibrated. Dumb ass, I thought as I unclipped my phone from my waist and handed it to the brunette. "Just call your phone then I'll save your number."

She dialed my phone, hers ringing in her purse, ended the call and handed my phone back to me. "There you go," she stated with a grin.

"What's your name?"

"Bella," she stated. "Bella Swan."

"Well Bella, it is a pleasure to meet you. As you may have heard, I'm Edward Cullen. Owner and bartender of this fine establishment."

Bella laughed, ducking her head. "It's nice to meet you too," she said. "Thanks for the drink. I'll let you get back to work. See you later."

She grabbed her brunette friend by the arm and disappeared into the crowd. Jacob sidled up to me again and nodded. "That's what I lost two grand worth of booze over?"

I shrugged as I popped the top of a long neck bottle of beer. "Consider it an investment. People are happy, and when people are happy they tell their friends about this amazing bar with a ridiculously sexy bartender. Win, win. Now shut up and pour these ladies over here a drink."

It was almost four by the time I shut off the lights and locked up the bar. My truck was the lone survivor holding down the parking lot. I slid behind the wheel and stuck the key in the ignition, yawning as the truck roared to life.

The radio blared to life, and I quickly turned it down. After listening to loud and rowdy music all night I wanted some peace and quiet. I turned out of the bar parking lot and turned toward home.

From the driveway, I could hear Sirius howling. Poor dog, I thought, I should have made Irina take him when she moved out. But no, I had to go and be the good guy and keep him when she came crying about her mama being allergic.

I shook my head. Dumb dog. He probably ate up at least three shoes and most likely gnawed the opposite leg of the coffee table off. He was lucky it wasn't the rainy season yet and the river was low or else I'd toss him in and see if he could swim.

Damn Irina. I thought bitterly as I parked the truck and cut the lights. The howling inside turned even more mournful. I sighed and opened the truck door, thankful that was closest neighbor was almost three miles away.

"Shut up Sirius," I called as I slammed the door. "Or I'll go find the one that shouldn't be named and feed you to him!"

I shook my head as I climbed the porch steps and let myself into the house I'd lived in my entire life. As I turned the lights on and survey the damage, I could have thrown the dog into the river, rainy season or not. Scattered across the room were tan pieces of leather, rubber and shoe lace. The remaining piece of the sole was hanging precariously on the edge of the coffee table – which had escaped unscathed – while the shoes mate sat next to the front door in pristine condition.

Sirius, Irina's almost full grown black lab named for that character from the wizard books that she was so in love with, sat on the couch looking at me with watery eyes. He cocked his head toward the shoe, then back to me as if to say, you left it on the floor dumbass, what did you think I'd do with it?

I shook my head and began cleaning up the mess, talking to the dog the whole time. "Just wait, you asshole, first thing after I wake up, I'm going to buy you a tiny little crate and then I'm going to stuff you in, like a sardine in a can."

Sirius woofed and jumped off the couch, doggedly eyeing the reaming boot. He circled around me, sniffing, creeping closer and closer to the boot.

"Touch it and I will personally skin you and wear your fur to the bar," I growled at him.

He trotted over and licked my face before retreating to his corner of the living room, flopping down with a sigh that said I bored him, and began gnawing on a rawhide.

I shot the dog a dirty look and dumped the mass of chewed up leather into the garbage. Almost two hundred dollars down the drain all because I was too soft to tell my ex-girlfriend, I would keep her dog rather than turning him over to a shelter where he probably belonged so he could torture the people there.

In the kitchen, I grabbed a glass of water and some aspirin and carried them into the living room. Setting them down on the coffee table, I flopped down onto the couch and toed my shoes off, stretched out and turned the TV on.

Some early morning show was on, the people talking about the countries latest scandals. Fifteen minutes later, I still wasn't paying attention to the show, instead, my thoughts were at the bar and beautiful brunette who'd come crashing into my world like a meteorite.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Bella

My mouth felt like I'd swallowed a bag of cotton balls. My head felt worse, like a heavy metal band had taken up residence and was playing at full force. I rolled over, away from the window and pulled the blanket over my head.

I wanted a few more minutes, just a few more, of peace and quiet before Rosalie came bursting in wanting to talk about the bartender. Again.

As I thought about it, his face drifted out of the depths of my imagination, pulling him up in stunning detail; the messy copper hair and devil may care grin with the dimples. Oh my god, the dimples. And the emerald green eyes.

I sighed.

And I sighed again.

Did last night really happen? I wondered. It couldn't have. Things like that don't happen to me. Ever.

I reached out from under the protection of the blanket and grabbed my phone, scrolling through my address book.

Right there, under Rosalie's name, was irrefutable proof. Edward – the bartender, then his number. Okay, so apparently these things do happen to me.

The phone vibrated in my hand and an icon appeared at the top of the screen. I clicked on it, opening the text message.

_Hopefully I don't wake you with this, I just wanted to say that it was great meeting you. If you're up for it, would you want to have lunch later? - Edward_

I frowned at the phone. I was supposed to go see my father this afternoon a few hours south. Could I skip it this one time? Would that make me a bad daughter?

It's not like he remembers who you are, my subconscious fired back.

But what if today is a day he does?

I threw the covers back and went to find Rosalie. Her door was still shut when I slipped quietly into the hallway. I tiptoed to her room and quietly opened the door. She was still in bed, snoring, her legs tangled in the comforter.

I poked her shoulder and waited. She snorted and rolled over. I poked her again, whispering her name. "Wake up," I said with a poke. "Rosalie, wake up!"

I pushed her shoulder and jumped back when she sat up, her hair tangled above her head. "What the hell Bella?" she whined.

"I gotta ask you something," I said, sitting down beside her.

"No," she groaned. "Go away and come back when I'm not still asleep and hung over."

"It's important Rosalie," I said. "It's about the guy from last night, you know, the bartender."

This got her attention. She sat up and ran a hand over her hair. "Do tell, even though I hate your ugly face so much right now."

"Shut up, he's not even your type," I retorted. "And anyways, he sent me a text this morning." I pulled the phone out and showed her the message.

"Oh. My. God! You've got to you, you have to!" she exclaimed.

"But I'm supposed to go see my dad this afternoon," I told her.

"Oh please," she said, rolling her eyes. "Your dad, and no offense, can't even remember who you are. I'm sure he won't miss you if you're not there."

"That's what I told myself, but what if he's lucid today and I miss it because I'm off gallivanting with a total stranger."

"Bells," Rosalie said, the tone of her voice changing from happy for your friend to concerned friend. "We only get so many moments, you know. I know you love your dad, but you have to admit that he seems like he's only getting worse. When's the last time he was lucid and could remember you?"

"Six months ago," I said softly. "But I don't want to be the person who blows off obligations because of a guy. I don't want to turn into the kind of person where a guy says jump and I ask how high."

"You know I love you, right?"

I nodded and swallowed. Anytime she said that, it usually meant I wasn't going to like what followed. I braced myself for the worst and waited.

"You will never be that person because you hold everybody at arm's length." I started to interrupt her, but Rosalie held up her hand and plowed ahead. "You do. You can deny it all you want, but you do. And I get it, really I do. You had a rough go of it growing up, what with your sister and your mom and all, and now your dad. But sweetie, you have to let it go sometime. You have to let people in and you have to live a little."

I rolled my eyes at her. "You do, Bella. You've put everybody else first, your family, school, your friends. When's the last time you did something just for you?"

I shrugged and stared at my picked at fingernails. "I have no idea. This is ridiculously new territory for me. I have no idea how to be the girl you take to lunch; I have no idea how to be you."

"I don't think he wants me, I think he wants you."

"Okay, so text him back? Tell him yes?"

Rosalie nodded. "If you don't, I will!" she threatened.

I opened the text message and replied – _sounds great. Where should I meet you and at what time? Bella._

With trembling fingers I hit send and set the phone down in my lap. His response came a few seconds later. _There's a little place on the river that makes the best burgers in the county. How's two? I can pick you up if you want._

I smiled and showed Rosalie the phone. She clapped her hands and squealed like a sixteen year old girl just asked to prom by the quarterback. I replied_, I'll meet you there. See you at two!_

"Where is this burger place on the river?" I asked her.

Rosalie launched into detail about how to get there and lay down on my side. "Is it the kind of place where I can wear shorts?"

"It's on the river genius, I highly doubt they want you to wear your mothers wedding gown."

"Shut up, I was just asking. God, stop being so jealous, green is such a terrible color on you," I shot back.

Rosalie laughed and lay down in her mountain of pillows. I found it so odd sometimes that this beautiful creature was my friend. With her model looks and long legs, Rosalie was the kind of girl that picked on girls like me in high school. But not her, Rosalie marched to the beat of an entirely different band. Her parents were filthy rich, something to do with cotton back in the 1800's, but she didn't act the way you would expect. Rosalie, who grew up in the lap of luxury, never had a bad word to say about anybody. We'd met our freshman year of college where we'd been roommates and then when she'd started law school and I started medical school, we'd lived together in an apartment off campus. Through it all, she'd stood by me, being my friend when I had none, let me cry on her shoulder and cheated off me through a few classes. I couldn't ask for a better friend.

"You okay?" Rosalie asked.

I nodded. "Just reminiscing and wondering what's next for us, you know."

Rosalie nodded, a smile on her face. "I can tell you. I'm going to be a hotshot lawyer and rule Manhattan and you're going to be a hotshot doctor and save Channing Tatum's life by giving him mouth to mouth; or something like that."

I snickered into my hand as the image of giving Channing Tatum mouth to mouth filled my head. "I don't think his wife would appreciate that too much."

"I think it's a gimme," Rosalie laughed. "He's the hottest dude on the planet. Everybody thinks of him that way."

"Probably; anyway, I've got to go get showered and dressed, it's getting late."

I left her lying on the bed and went back to my room. Digging around in the closet, I found a yellow sundress, laid it on the bed and went to find some shoes. Rooting around the bottom of the closet, I found hooker heels, flip flops, cowboy boots, but nothing that would go with the dress.

"Rosalie!" I yelled. "I need you again!"

Rosalie rushed into the room breathlessly. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I have no shoes to wear with that," I said pointing at the dress.

She stepped forward, plucked the chocolate brown boots out of the pile and set them on the floor next to the bed. "Wear the boots, now leave me alone, I'm going back to bed."

An hour later I was driving down a long and winding county road that ran parallel to the river. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard and stepped on the gas a bit. A mile down the road I saw the sign for the place I was looking for and pulled into the parking lot.

My hands were shaking as I parked the car and got out. The sun shone brilliantly, the heat miserable. After the glare of the parking lot, the shade inside was welcome, as was the air conditioning. I scanned the faces, looking for Edward. My heart sank a little when I realized he wasn't there. I turned to leave, feeling stupid for falling for a pretty boy trick and walked right into a solid wall of warm toned chest. I jumped back, stumbling a bit and stammered an apology.

I glanced up into the smiling face of Edward, who had his hand on my forearm steadying me. "Sorry, I'm late," he said.

"It's okay," I murmured, following him as he led the way to an empty table facing the river. "I thought you stood me up."

He held out the chair for me and I sank down, staring at the table. "Why did you think I would do that?" he asked.

"It's just kind of the story of my life," I told him. "I'm not the kind of person people like you are generally attracted to."

He looked at me as if trying to determine whether or not I was serious. "Don't look at me like that," I said.

"Like what?"

"Like… I don't know; just don't."

He sat back in his chair, resting his forearms on the table. "Okay. Sorry."

"It's okay."

We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, I am looking anywhere but at him, and him looking at me like I was a bug under a microscope.

"You're doing it again," I said.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

Edward chuckled and leaned across the table. "I can already tell that's going to be our thing," he said.

"What is?"

"Me doing something I'm not even aware I'm doing and you call me on it, me apologizing and you say, "it's okay." I have a feeling I'm going to be doing a lot of apologizing to you."

"I'm sorry," I said, trying not to blush. "This is just so weird to me, you know?"

"What is?"

"This; you. Me, here with you."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because all my life I was labeled a nerd or a geek. If a guy like you ever talked to me it was because his bitchy girlfriend was waiting around the corner to make my life miserable."

"Well, I can assure you, I have no bitchy girlfriends waiting in the parking lot, ready and willing to harass you."

"Phew," I said, wiping my brow. "I can't tell you what a relief that is."

Edward laughed and leaned back in his chair. "You're kind of funny, you know that?"

I shook my head no. "I'm not. I'm awkward and never know the right thing to say in a social situation."

"You seem to be doing just fine," he assured me.

"For now. Give me about fifteen minutes, I'm pretty sure I'll be thoroughly enjoying the taste of my own foot."

"I'm going to hold you to that," he said.

"Right, of course you are." I looked around the restaurant. "So, what's the deal with this place? Do we get a menu or something?"

Edward shook his head no. "You get a burger. Add whatever you want to it, however you want it cooked. That's about as fancy as it gets around here."

"Okay then. I think I like it. No fuss, no muss."

I glanced across the table at him, instantly wondering what his story was; where did he grow up, why did he work in the bar; how old was he, what were his parents like, what was he like as a kid but as curious as I was, I didn't want to ask. This was the awkward getting to know you and find out what we have in common part of the date and this was the part that I dreaded. It wasn't very easy to tell my story; it led to the bug under a microscope stares and the inevitable wondering if I was as screwed up as the rest of my family.

Edward cocked his head, looking at me as if he were wondering the very same things about me as I was about him.

"What?" I asked him.

"I was just wondering what you were thinking," he said.

"Funny, I was wondering the same thing," I replied.

"Okay, you go first," he said.

I shook my head no. "Ask me," I told him.

"Are you sure? You have this deer in the headlights look going on right now."

"The answers to your questions are not what you're going to be expecting," I told him.

"You make it sound like you were raised by Charles Manson," he said.

I swallowed hard and muttered, "Might as well have been."

"It's that bad, huh?"

I nodded and sipped the glass of water that was on the table, even though I had no idea where it had come from. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he offered.

I set the glass down and sat up straight squaring my shoulders. Might as well get it out of the way now so he can run screaming for the woods, I thought.

"When I was fifteen, my older sister tried to kill me." His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I told you it wasn't what you were expecting and it gets worse."

"I'm all ears," he said.

I glanced around, trying to decide if this was the right time and place to do this. The restaurant was practically empty, the closest other diners were on the other side of the room. I took a deep breath, took a sip of the water and said, "Leah, that's her name. She's four years older than me; well she was away at college and she had gone out that night to a party with her friends. She got drunk and was strung out on something – I never found out what – and my parents told her that if she was going to be staying in their house for the summer she couldn't be doing stuff like that.  
"She basically told them to screw off; it was her life and she'd live it how she saw fit, she was an adult after all. So my parents threw down the gauntlet. Clean up her act or get out of their house. She chose to leave. My mother told me that she was staying with her boyfriend for the summer then going back to school in the fall. So like, I don't know, maybe a month or so goes by, we don't hear from Leah at all then one night there's this banging on the front door. It's like, three in the morning, so my dad goes downstairs and looks around. He sees Leah on the porch so he opens the door. My mom and I are on the stairs and I can see her; she looks like she got into a fight, her lip was bloody, her hair was tangled and dirty and she was shaking like a leaf even though it was like 80 degrees outside.

"She tells my dad that he needs to let her in, she needs help but he turns her away, tells her that she knew she couldn't come back if she was messed up like that. I'm not sure what happened then, I couldn't see, the next thing I know there's this loud pop, kind of like a big firework exploding and my dad just crumbles there in the foyer. My mom is screaming and something in my brain is screaming at me to run and hide. Leah comes into the house, she's waving this big gun, I mean it was huge, and anyway, she's screaming and waving it around and my mom is doing that mom thing where she talks in this low voice and all the while she's shoving me back up the stairs.

Leah snapped, shot my mom, just shot her everywhere. I ran and locked myself in the bathroom. She shot me through the door. I'm not sure what happened after that. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital, my aunt telling me that my mom didn't make it."

"What about your dad?" Edward asked.

"He survived, but he's not the same. It's almost like he has Alzheimer's. There are days where he can remember me and what happened, but for the most part, he can't remember anything. The doctors don't know if it's from the injury he sustained or if he's just repressing his memories."

"So anyway, after spending a big chunk of my sophomore year in the hospital, I moved a few hours south of here to live with my aunt and uncle. I kept to myself and would hide out in the library at school during lunch and any breaks. I got a scholarship to Columbia University and decided to become a doctor; I'm starting my last year of medical school in the fall. And that is my story."

Edward sat back in his seat, his hands folded on the table in front of him. He had a look on his face I couldn't quite place. "You're doing it again," I said with a small smile.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I'm just, well hell, I'm kind of in awe over here."

"Why?"

"You went through all of that and yet here you are grabbing life by the balls," he said.

"Don't do that," I told him. "Don't make me a martyr. I'm just a chick who went through something awful and decided to not let it define who I am."

"Well, for what it's worth, I admire your courage."

I cocked my head to the side and shot him a look of disbelief.

"What?"

"I'm trying to figure out if you're for real or if you're just one damned good actor," I said.

"Why?"

"Most people cannot handle all that. You sat there and listened to the whole story and didn't bat an eye. What kind of skeletons do you have hiding in your closet?"

"Believe it or not, none really. My mom passed away when I was eleven; she had a really aggressive breast cancer. Raised by my dad, he lives in Cocoa Beach now with his new wife. I have a half sister who lives in Spokane. Jacob – you met him last night – my best friend, we've known each other as long as we've been alive, and I bought the bar about two years ago, before that we worked there. I've lived a rather boring life."

"Wow, that does seem rather boring. We should probably order soon, I'm pretty sure you have things to do this afternoon that do not include sitting here listening to my horrid life history."

"You're right," he agreed. "I have to get home so I can feed all those skeletons in my closets."

"I bet," I said.

"Okay, well not skeletons, but a dog with a wicked nasty shoe addiction."

"I like dogs. Maybe your shoes taste good?"

"Oh, if you like dogs so much you can have this one, he is a nightmare," Edward said shaking his head.

"What kind of dog is it?"

"An awful one," he replied. "I think he's a black lab, but I'm not really a dog person so I have no idea. He belonged to my ex-girlfriend.

Ding, ding, ding, there it is ladies and gentleman, skeleton number one. "Oh really?"

"Don't look at me like that," he said. "Her mama's allergic so she asked if I could keep him until she found him a new home."

"And how long ago was that?"

"Almost a year ago." He waved the waitress over and ordered two burgers for us. "I've tried to find him a new home, but I don't know, I kind of like having him around, even if he does chew up my shoes."

"So why leave your shoes out for him to eat?"

"Because I'm a glutton for punishment," he retorted.

"I've noticed," I said dryly.

An hour later we were standing in the parking lot, Edward leaning against the passenger side of my car. "Thanks for having lunch with me," he said.

I fiddled with the strap of my handbag and smiled. "Thanks for asking me; I had a good time."

"So would you be up for doing it again?"

I nodded. "You have my number, give me a call."

"Will do," Edward said, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "Talk to you soon."

"Bye," I replied, watching as he pushed himself off the car and headed toward his own truck parked a few spots down from mine.

He opened the door and climbed inside, waving as he pulled out of the lot. I waved back, a stupid smile plastered to my face.

My stomach fluttered as I climbed into my car. Oh buddy, I thought, this is going to end so badly.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Edward

"So you went out with the girl from last night?" Jacob asked as he stood behind the bar cutting up pieces of fruit.

I nodded as I emptied the quarters from the pool tables. "We went to the burger shack on the river. I like her, she's different."

"Different how?"

I shrugged, moving on to the next table. "She's not like the girls around here. She's driven, been through a hell of a lot too. I don't really know how to explain it, there's just something about her; it pulls at me."

"Hmm," was all Jacob said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked him.

"Nothing man, nothing at all."

"No, you asshole, you mean something by it."

"Look," Jacob said, wiping his hands with a bar towel. "She's a summer girl. You know as well as I do what that means. I just don't want you getting tangled up in something that ain't gonna last past the end of summer."

"When have I ever gotten "tangled up in something?"" I shot back.

Jacob snorted, leaning down to check the ice bin. "Seriously?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Um, how about Irina and that rotten ass dog she stuck you with?"

"That's different," I retorted.

"If you say so," Jacob muttered.

"Look," I said, "I get where you're coming from, but it's not as serious as all that. We're just hanging out; getting to know one another. Who knows if she's even into me like that."

"Whatever you say," Jacob said.

I rolled my eyes and went back to work, doing all the things no one ever thinks it takes to run a bar. Wandering over to the jukebox, I dropped a quarter in and pushed two random buttons, letting fate decide what was going to play.

I thought about Bella, as I went to help Jacob restock the liquor behind the bar. I couldn't believe she'd lived through such a hellish experience and made it out relatively unscathed. Then again, there were two types of scars, the kind that lined the body – a timeline of experiences and lessons learned, then the kind that faded and only lingered below the surface like cautionary tales told around campfires to scare children. I wondered if Bella's scars were the undetectable kind, ones that were only uncovered over time.

My own mother came to mind and I remembered what it was like to lose her. I remember lying in bed at night trying to understand how she could just be gone. I understood that she was dead, but I didn't understand how or why?

Now, looking back years later, it's easy to remember the fear that remained in the months following her death and it's easy to see now why each day is special.

We opened the bar that night to a vivacious crowd and before I knew it, last call was upon us. An hour later we kicked the few remaining stragglers out and closed up the bar for the night.

Different night, same routine.

Different chewed up shoe on the carpet, another nap on the couch before heading to bed for good around six in the morning. The monotony was slowly starting to kill me.

Five nights after our lunch date, I sent Bella a text message. _Going for a ride down the river want to come along?_

Her reply came a few seconds later. _What do you mean, 'a ride?'_

I chuckled as I replied. _A boat ride._

_Is it safe?_

_Of course it is. I wouldn't ask you to go if it wasn't safe_, I sent.

_Okay. Yes, I want to go._

_Send me your address and I'll come pick you up._

Fifteen minutes later I pulled up in front of a massive estate with a long winding driveway cutting a path through the property. I followed Bella's directions and drove past the main house, a garage until I reached a smaller house nestled along the edge of the property line.

Bella sat in a rocking chair on the front porch, her hair blowing in the breeze as she looked out at the river. I shut the truck off and opened the door. She looked over at me and smiled.

"Hey you," she said, rising from the chair. "How's it going?"

"It's going," I said. "How are you?"

"In dire need of distraction," she said, looping her arm through mine.

I led the way to the truck enjoying the feel of her hand on my arm. "Want to talk about it?"

Bella sighed and leaned in closer to me. "Not really," she said softly.

"Okay," I replied. I opened the truck door for her and held her hand as she climbed into the passenger seat.

I shut the door behind her and went around to the other side. As I started the truck, she said "It's my sister; she called me today."

"Did you talk to her?" I asked.

Bella shook her head no and picked at the hem of her shorts. "I couldn't. I answered the phone, but when I heard it was her, I hung up. Then I felt bad for hanging up on her."

"Why?"

"I don't know,." She shrugged helplessly. "I guess because she's my sister, but then I remember what she did and I just can't find it in me to forgive her. She ruined my life, you know?"

I remained quiet, not sure if she was done talking.

"She does this every few years. She acts like she's so sorry about what she did, blames the guy she stayed with that summer, blames the drugs, blames stress, but she never once accepted the blame. She's never come out and said that she messed up." Bella took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. "She thinks if she tries to make amends, say she's sorry, the judge will let her out of jail or reduce her sentence or whatever. I don't know. I just don't know. I don't feel bad for her, I don't want to hear anything she has to say. I hope she stays in there for the rest of her life and I hope I never have to look at her again."

I took her hand and slid it into mine, giving it a little squeeze. "I wish I could say something to make you feel better."

"I'm sorry, I'm ruining your night. Just ignore me, I'll be alright in a minute."

"Stop it," I said to her. "You are not ruining my night. I'm a good listener and I don't mind listening if you have to vent. I can't guarantee I'll have the right words for you, but I can guarantee that I can hear whatever you want me to hear."

"Why?" she asked. "Why do you want to sit there and listen to all this?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because we barely know each other and people I've known for years don't want to hear it, why are you different?"

"Because," I said, rubbing my thumb across the top of her hand. "I kind of like you a little bit."

She laughed and turned her seat to look at me. "A little bit? Is that all?" she asked incredulously.

"It's probably a lot more than I should," I told her.

She nodded wordlessly. "It probably is," she said after a minute.

We arrived at the dock where my boat was moored as dusk was falling. Bella glanced at the darkening sky anxiously. "Are you sure it's okay to go out at night?"

I nodded and shut the truck off. "Come on."

Biting her lip, she climbed out of the truck. I followed, pocketing my keys and grabbing a cooler out of the bed of the truck. Bella trailed a few paces behind me. I stepped onto the dock, turned around and held my hand out to her.

She took it and stepped onto the dock, her thin flip flops slapping against the worn wood. "It's a big boat, you have nothing to worry about. If any of the gators decide they're feeling a little Froggy, they've got a good bit of work to do if they want to get at you."

She laughed, a hollow sound that didn't sound reassured. "You gonna fight them off for me?"

"I don't know, maybe. Then again, I might just let them have you."

"Oh my god you're so mean."

"I'm just kidding." I stopped at my boat and smacked the hull. "This is us."

Bella looked up at my boat, a 25 foot Dory Cruiser. She raised an eyebrow as she read the name. "The _Bad Habit_?" she asked.

"I don't think it really needs explaining, does it?"

"I was just wondering what kind of bad habit it was referring to," she replied.

"Pick one," I said. "Come on aboard."

"How?"

I climbed aboard and held my hand out to her. "Gimme your hand, I'll help you."

She took my hand and gingerly climbed aboard, slipping on the deck. I grabbed her arm and steadied her. "Careful."

"I didn't realize it was slippery. I totally could have executed that more Bellafully; next time," she said with a wink, "I'll nail it." Bella looked around the deck, then motioned the cabin, "May I?"

I nodded, following behind her. "Just watch out, this is where I hid all those skeletons we were talking about the other day."

She poked her head out and with wide eyes said, "You have a kitchen! And a bathroom! All you're missing is a bedroom."

I leaned against the bulkhead, with my arms folded across my chest, watching as she poked around in all the nooks and crannies. "There's a bedroom," I told her pointing at the berthing area. "It's right up there in the bow."

"The what?" she asked, looking around.

I walked by her and pulled the curtain separating the berthing area from the galley and pointed. "Right here. It's not much, but it's big enough to sleep in if that's what you need to do."

"Oh," she said, turning around.

"You ready to go?"

Bella nodded. I went to the control panel and started the boat, the engine revving underfoot. Bella jolted and grasped the railing. I backed out of the slip and angled the boat down the river. "So how have you been?"

Bella turned and looked at me, shrugging. "Okay, I guess. I went to see my dad the other day."

"How is he?"

She frowned, her eyes sad. "The same. The doctors say there hasn't been any change. He isn't getting better and he isn't getting worse. He's in medical limbo."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I told her to which she replied with a shrug.

"It is what it is," she said. "But hopefully there will be some kind of medical breakthrough that can help him; some kind of new drug or something."

"Is that why you're studying medicine? You hope to be able to find a cure for your father?"

"In a sense, yes, I hope to help cure the unimaginable. I mean, I know this kind of thing is still years in the making, but I'm hoping that in the meantime, I can help someone else, even if it's just to know that they aren't alone and that there are doctors out there working tirelessly to find a way to return their loved ones to them. But on the other hand, no. I've always been fascinated by the work doctors do. When I was younger, my mom used to watch these shows where they showed surgeries on TV. The first one I remember was a vasectomy."

"Your mother let you watch a man getting his balls operated on?"

She laughed, the sound filling the small confines of the boat. "Oh no, she lied and told me that it was his knee."

"And you believed her? How old were you?"

"I was in sixth grade, so like eleven or twelve. And yes, I believed her, she was my mother, why would she lie to me? And she was a very convincing liar. I remember sitting there and both of us watching and wondering to each other what it was they were operating on. I think I was the one who came to the conclusion in was a knee. I had never seen testicles before, so I had no idea that's what it was; but anyway, my mom made this sound, and now that I think about it, it was a rather amused sound. She went, "hmm, I think you're right. It looks just like a knee cap." I got so excited thinking I was going to see inside this guy's knee, and disappointed when I didn't. "

I laughed at the disappointment in her voice. "I'm still stuck on the fact that you watched a man get a vasectomy at twelve."

"Oh, shut up," she said laughing. "Like you never saw anything you weren't supposed to see as a kid."

"Oh, I saw all kinds of things. One of my friends, well his dad had a playboy subscription, and he used to steal the magazines and we'd sneak off to the woods to look at them."

"Scandalous," she replied.

"At the time it was. I had a normal childhood, even after my mom passed. My dad made damn sure that nothing changed after she was gone. I mean, I knew she was gone. We ate a lot of pizza and burgers and things she wouldn't approve of eating more than once a month, but her passing didn't really affect me as much as it probably would if I was older."

"Do you remember a lot about her?"

I shook my head no, saddened. "Every day that goes by she gets fuzzier and fuzzier. Sometimes, out of the blue, I catch a whiff of the perfume she used to wear or I'll hear someone laugh and it will remind me of her. But most of the time I have a hard time remembering what color her eyes were or the shape of her face."

"Me too. It seems like just yesterday that all that stuff happened, but then when I try to remember my mom, I find myself forgetting her smile or the way it felt when she hugged me, the sound of her voice telling me she's proud of me. I lose her all over again every day."

I slowed the boat and went to her, wrapping my arms around her thin frame. Bella laid her cheek on my chest, tears soaking through the front of my tee shirt. I rubbed her back and held her tightly against me. "I can't tell you it'll be okay, because it won't. I can tell you that it gets better. It might not be today or tomorrow, but one day you'll realize that it aches but it doesn't sting."

"Thanks," she said with a sniffle. "Everybody tells me that it's okay, that I'll be fine; but it's just bullshit. I won't be fine, and it's not okay. Thank you for understanding that."

She looked up at me with watery eyes and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to kiss her until she forgot the pain. She broke away from me before I could and turned, wiping her eyes. "I want to say something, but before I do, I want you to promise you'll just listen and not say anything until I'm done."

"Um, okay. Sure, spill it."

She took a deep breath and folded her hands. My heart hammered against my chest. Here it comes, I thought, this is the part where she tells me she's got a husband or fiancé or whatever back home, or she tells me she's got some highly infectious or incurable disease and has the summer to live. My palms started sweating; I wiped them on my shorts, then shoved them in my pockets and leaned against the control panel.

"Okay, here it goes." She exhaled and took another deep breath. "I don't know what's going on with us, if we're going to be friends or if we're going to be something more. I want to say it doesn't matter, and it doesn't, because either way I think you're a really nice guy and I don't mean to sound like I'm trying to friend zone you because I'm not. I'm just trying to be realistic here; I've seen The Notebook and I know what happens when two people meet over a summer. Someone leaves and someone gets their heartbroken and I don't want that. I don't have time for a broken heart. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that at the end of the summer I am going back to New York to finish medical school and then I'll have internships and residency and all the stuff that comes with being a doctor. I don't know where I'll be when that all happens and I don't want to give you false hope or expectations. If you want to have fun, hang out with me this summer, that's awesome, but just know that come august I will be gone. As for what happens after that, who knows. But I do know this, I'm not looking for love or complications. I'm just here to relax and have fun and think about myself for once in my life and if that bothers you then turn this boat around right now and take me back and I swear I'll never bother you again. If it doesn't well then…" she trailed off and shrugged. "I don't know… continue the evening as previously planned." She looked at me for the first time since starting her speech. "Okay, I'm done."

"Okay. First, that's not what I was expecting you to say. Second, I won't lie, I have this insane urge to kiss you senseless every time I see you, since the first time I saw you standing in my bar, but if I'm honest, I don't know what's going on either. Third, I have no clue what The Notebook is, so I'll take your word for that part. Fourth, I don't want to turn the boat around. I like talking to you and hanging out with you. You're refreshingly honest and I wouldn't change that at all. I like knowing where I stand and I have the feeling that whatever happens with us, you will never fail to let me know just exactly where that is with you. So, unless you have an objection, we will continue the night as planned; but just so you know, I never had a plan."

"I figured as much," she replied. "That you didn't have a plan, I mean. But it's okay. I like talking to you too, so maybe we should break open a couple of the beers you have in your cooler and talk."

"That sounds like a mighty fine plan," I said with a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Bella

I'd forgotten how awful Florida mosquitoes were. I slapped my arm and grimaced as it came away bloody. Edward handed me an oil stained rag and winced. "Sorry I don't have anything cleaner. I've got some bug spray in the head, want me to grab it for you?"

I nodded. "Would've been nice of you to offer sooner," I called out after him with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," he said coming back with the spray. "I am a colossal screw up, story of my life."

I took the proffered bug spray and applied a generous amount to my arms and legs. "Says the man who owns his own bar. How did that happen anyway?"

Edward shrugged as he took a drink of his beer. "Jacob and I used to work for the guy who owned it when we were younger. He got old, decided he didn't want to deal with it anymore, so he put it up for sale. I had a little bit of money saved from working there over the years. I talked to Jacob about buying it, he thought I was kidding until I went to the previous owner and told him I was interested. Jacob was in school at the time, I can't remember what he was studying – he changed his major so many times – then his kid sister got sick so he dropped out of school, bought the bar with me. He told me he was gambling away any chance of a future he had and that it had better work or he'd kill me."

"What about you, did you ever go to college?" I asked.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "I got through high school okay because I had to; I didn't want to spend four years in college studying crap I didn't care about. I don't need a fancy degree to feel like I'm somebody – no offense, it's just not for me."

"I get it," I said, picking at the label on the beer bottle. "I mean, I knew I had to go to college and medical school, but I can see the appeal of just living each day as it comes. Sometimes I wish I was that kind of person."

"What kind of person?" he asked.

"The kind that can wake up in the morning and see the sun shining and decide to take a boat ride down the river and just hang out in the sunshine all day and be content."

"So why not be that person?"

"I just don't have it in me," I told him. "I go stir crazy if I'm not doing something all the time."

"Doesn't that ever get to be too much? Doesn't it ever stress you out?"

I shook my head no. "It's the way I've always been, even as a kid, I was always on the go, always doing something. It drove my parents half mad sometimes."

Edward laughed, then put the bottle of beer to his lips and took a swallow. I watched the muscles in his neck flex and move and shuddered. I wondered if he knew how undeniably gorgeous he was. "It's getting late," he said after he put the now empty bottle down next to him. "We should probably be getting back."

"Yeah, we probably should before the mosquitoes start to think that I'm a free for all buffet."

He went into the cabin of the boat and started the engine, the deck vibrating under my feet. We did a lazy turn in the middle of the river and headed back toward the dock. I sat in the chair next to Edward watching the darkness drift by, the night full of the croaking of frogs and singing of crickets, the occasional bird crying out through the night.

I closed my eyes as I sat back in the chair and sighed, a content smile on my face. I felt warm fingers slip around mine and squeeze gently.

We rode in silence until I felt the boat slow, the engine throttle as the dock appeared out of the darkness. He slid up to the dock and shut the engine off, the night going eerily silent around us. I watched as he tied the boat up, then jumped down to the dock.

"Alright," he said, "Whenever you're ready, let me know, I'll catch you."

I gripped the side of the boat and looked down at him. "You're such a smart ass," I said as I jumped off the boat.

Edward grabbed me as my feet hit the dock and steadied me. I glanced up at his eyes, dark in the moonlight, my breath catching in my throat. I swallowed hard, breathing in the smell of him, it was a combination of sun, ocean, sandalwood and citrus. "Do you know how beautiful you are?" he murmured, running his thumb along my jaw. "Standing here, looking at me like that. You gave me your speech earlier, but here's mine: you are always going to be my summer girl and not matter what happens or where we end up when I think about this night years from now; this is what I'll remember – you standing here with the moonlight in your hair, your eyes alive and on fire.

He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine. His mouth tasted faintly of beer and spearmint. I sighed and wrapped my arms around his neck, weaving my hands into his hair and pulling him closer.

Without breaking the kiss, Edward picked me up and set me on the deck railing, wrapped his arms around and deepened the kiss. All sense escaped me and in a flickering moment of clarity, I understood what all the literary heroines meant by being kissed senseless. It was a pleasant feeling until a fog light from a passing boat landed on us and drunken voice slurred out, "Hell yeah man, kiss that bitch!"

Edward pulled back and turned toward the boat. "Do you kiss your mama with that mouth?"

I blushed and ducked my head, bringing my fingers to my swollen lips.

"Come on," he said, lifting me off the railing. "Let's get out of here before I have to kick someone's ass."

Taking my hand is his, he led the way through the makeshift parking lot back to his truck. Always the gentleman, he opened the door for me. As he hurried around to the driver's side, I gazed out the window.

What are you doing? My subconscious demanded. You can't go giving little speeches, then kissing guys on the docks; it makes you a hypocrite.

Oh, shut up, I thought back at it.

Edward glanced at me as he started the truck. "You okay over there? You look like you were having some kind of crisis of conscience or something."

"I'm fine," I said. "I'm just trying to navigate uncharted territory."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never dated," I admitted. "Ever."

"Oh," was all he said.

"I know," I replied. "And I gave you that whole, I'm leaving at the end of the summer, speech. I kind of feel like a hypocrite."

"Don't. You let me know where I stand and what to expect. Just because you told me all that and then kissed me doesn't make you a hypocrite. Stop thinking about what you are and aren't supposed to do or feel and just go with the flow. If you fall in love with me-"

"Unlikely, but go ahead," I said.

"Then whatever. We've known each other a week. You may realize that I have some nasty habit that's totally unacceptable to you and drop me like a bad habit. Stop fighting everything and just let whatever happens, happen."

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye trying not to smile. He'd barely known me a week and yet he had me pegged. "Okay, fine. Take me home, you bossy jerk."

"Fine you big crybaby, I'll take you home."

I laughed and he turned on the radio. Country music blared out of the speakers and he reached for the volume, turning it down. I sat back watching the street lights streak past, listening to the radio. A few minutes later he was pulling down the winding road that was Rosalie's driveway. He parked the truck in front of the guest house and cut off the engine.

"Well, here we are, safe and sound. Just like I promised." From the driver's seat, he smirked at me.

I leaned across the cab, one hand on the seat behind him, one on the door. "I think I've figured out what your bad habit is," I murmured, gazing up at him.

"What's that?" he asked still smirking, one eyebrow rose inquisitively.

"You can be a cocky son of a bitch sometimes. I can't decide if it's attractive or off-putting." I leaned forward and brushed his lips with mine. "Once I do, I'll let you know." I pushed myself back into my seat, turned and opened the door hopping out of the truck. "I'll see you around."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Bella

I always have a hard time believing how fast time can move when you aren't paying attention. One minute it's the first week of June and you have the entire summer ahead of you – two whole months of nothing but staying up late, sleeping until noon and sunburn in all the wrong places – and then next thing you know, it's the fourth of July and you vacation's end is looming on the horizon.

That was how I found myself that Fourth of July. Rosalie had decided to throw a party, I was sitting in the kitchen, avoiding everyone because all I could think of was how the end was near.

The end of summer was coming and I wasn't ready for it. In three short weeks I had felt something very much so akin to love with Edward. It wasn't full on love where it clouded my mind and made me all giddy with thoughts of him, but it was a butterfly in my stomach every time he kissed me kind of way.

It also scared me. I was leaving in a three weeks and if I was being honest with myself, I wasn't sure I could. I took a deep breath to keep from freaking out and plastered on a fake smile when the kitchen door slammed open.

"Oh my god, finally," Jacob said, bursting into the kitchen. "Peace and quiet."

I laughed and added more ice to the bucket I was filling before my panic attack started. "Welcome to paradise," I said.

"Your friend Rosalie is kind of crazy. Anybody ever tell you that?"

I nodded and shoved some brown longnecks into the ice. Jacob reached for a beer and popped the top. "That's probably warm," I told him.

He shrugged and tipped the bottle back finishing it in five swallows. "It's all good," he said in his slow southern drawl. "So Edward told me you're heading back to New York soon."

I nodded and swallowed hard. "In three and a half weeks," I said softly.

"He's having a hard time even if he doesn't act like it," Jacob said opening another beer.

"Not helping Jacob," I muttered.

"I told him when he first met you that you were a summer girl, you weren't the sticking around kind. I can see the stars in your eyes from all the way over here. You got big ole plans for your future and ain't nobody or nothing gonna stop you. I get it, you do what you gotta do to get through, I just wish you woulda left Edward out of it."

"Out of what?" I snapped. "He's a grown man, Jacob, he doesn't need you sticking up for him, running around after him like his mother. Jesus." I glared at him as I shoved the rest of the case of beer into the ice. Jacob leaned against the counter watching me warily, sipping his beer. I wiped my hands on my jeans and headed toward the other room, stopping in the doorway and facing him. "And just so you know, he's the one that pursued me, thank you very much. I told him that I was leaving at the end of the summer. He knew going into this what the deal was, so screw you okay?"

I stormed off, running right into Edward by the stairs. "Hey," he said, grabbing my arm lightly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I snapped yanking my arm out of his grasp and stomping off toward the porch. I stopped, one hand on the door and turned back to him. "Wait, that's a lie. Jacob pissed me off. He's in the kitchen acting like an asshole. I'm going outside to get some air, I'll be back in a minute."

Edward looked toward the kitchen, then back to me. I could see the struggle in his eyes as to whom to choose, me or Jacob. I opened the door and stepped onto the porch as he called out, "Bella, wait!"

I sat down on the step as some banjo riddled folksy music started. Edward sat down next to me, his hand on my knee. "You gotta ignore Jacob, he talks outta his ass 99 percent of the time."

"Yeah, well he may talk out of his ass, but he had a point," I muttered.

"What did he say to you?" he demanded.

"Just what we've always known all along. I'm leaving in a few weeks. He told me I wasn't the sticking around kind; called me a summer girl and that I should've left you out of it."

"So why are you so upset if it's like you just said, we've known all along that you weren't staying."

"Because I'm starting to fall in love with you!" I blurted out, then, realizing my error, slapped my hand over my mouth.

Edward's eyes widened. "Is that true?" he asked in a soft voice.

I shook my head no but said, "Yes." Cat's outta the bag now, I thought. Might as well tell him the whole truth. "There's something about you," I said with a shrug. "I can't figure it out; it's like when I'm around you I have no defenses, all my walls come tumbling down and no matter how hard I try to keep you out, you find a crack in my armor and force your way in. I don't want to love you, but I do."

"Is being with me that terrible?"

"No!" I reached for his hand and took it in mine. "It's the thought of being _without_ you that's terrible. I mean, I spend a lot of time when I'm alone going back and forth in my head about whether or not I should go back to New York. You'd be surprised that a lot of the time the answer is no, I shouldn't. But deep down I know I _have_ to. If I didn't I think I'd grow to resent you for my crappy decision and I don't want that to happen."

"I wouldn't let you stay," he said. "I'd force you to get on a plane, train, whatever, and go back. I won't let you stay here."

"You'd really make me leave?"

Edward nodded. "I would. You have dreams and my own selfish desires have no right to ruin those for you. Besides, what's a year anyway? In the grand scheme of things, it's not really that long of a period of time. Who knows what could happen? You said it before, we could wind up being the greatest love story the worlds ever seen, or we could end up the best of friends. Who knows, but I'm willing to wait to find out."

"See, this is exactly what I mean! There you go worming your way into my heart. I say, just for tonight, we shelve this and come back to it when it's closer to august. Right now I really don't want to think about this, I just want to enjoy the night and the rest of the summer."

"Want to get away this weekend, maybe go somewhere?"

"Yeah?"

Edward nodded. "Yeah. Let's get out of town, go to the ocean or something, just you and me."

"Okay. Want to leave Friday night?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'll swing by and pick you up around noon."

Later that night after the fireworks and everyone had left, Rosalie and I were in the kitchen throwing away the empty beer bottles that seemed to litter every available surface. As she cleared off one counter, she turned and leaned against it. "Bella," she said softly.

I stopped what I was doing and set the empty bottles I'd just picked up back down on the counter. When I looked at her, there was something in her eyes that made me pause. "Rosalie, what's wrong?"

She looked up at me, tears filling her eyes. "I have bad news," she said softly. "I wanted you to be the first to know."

"You're scaring me," I whispered.

"I'm not going back to New York at the end of the summer," she told me.

I stared at her in confusion. "What do you mean you're not going back to New York? What about the bar exam?"

"I'm going to take it here," she said. "It's my dad, he's really sick. I just found out earlier today. My mom is going to need my help around the house, and with him so we talked about it and I decided that I'll study in my free time and take the bar down here."

"I'm so sorry, sweetie, is he going to be okay?"

Rosalie shrugged, a tear spilling down her cheek. "The doctors don't know. They're going to treat him of course, but you know as well as anybody that cancer isn't always curable."

I exhaled slowly, my chest crushing as if a ton of weight had just been dropped on it. I crossed the kitchen and wrapped my arms around my best friend tightly. "I'm so sorry this is happening to you," I whispered. "No one, especially you and your family, deserve this. If there's anything I can do you just say the word."

"There's one thing I need you to do," she said, her voice muffled.

"Name it," I said.

"Don't let this ruin the rest of our summer. I want to have at least one more summer of good memories and fun times. I don't want the reality to crush all this right now. There's going to be plenty of time to worry about all of it later. Right now," she sighed. "Right now I just want everything to be normal."

"I'll try my best," I told her. "I'll do whatever I can do to make this an unforgettably awesome summer."

"Thank you Bells. I have no idea what I would do without you."

"Here's hoping we never have to find out. I love you, Rosalie, you're like the sister I should have had."

"Ditto, girl, ditto." She let go of me and seemed to regain her composure. Rosalie took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and smoothed her hair back. "And I just want you to know, I put in a few calls to some of my friends at Columbia letting them know I won't be back and offering to sublet my room to them for the rest of the time we have on the lease, so you don't have to worry about that."

"That was the farthest thing on my mind," I told her, "But I appreciate you thinking about it."

She waved me off and turned to the mess on the counter. "Come on," she said, motioning the remaining cluster of bottles and red plastic cups. "Let's get this cleaned up."

She asked about how things were with Edward and smiled and nodded as I prattled on about him. Then I dropped the bomb about what Jacob had said.

"He said what?" she exclaimed.

I repeated what he had said to me earlier that night as I dumped another armful of bottles in the trash. "Part of me thinks he's right. I have no right starting this thing with Edward. I mean, it's a disaster waiting to happen. I know I should put the brakes on, but I can't. There's something about him." I shrugged helplessly. "He makes me forget that my life can be such a disaster sometimes. He makes me forget the hurt that I've always had in my heart and he makes me feel like everything is going to be okay even if it's not."

"You love him," she said.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I don't. I have strong love-like feelings for him, but I am definitely not in love with him."

"Have you guys talked about what happens at the end of the summer?"

"Off and on. We just kind of decided to play it by ear and let the chips fall where they may. We don't know what'll happen in the future and we can't change it, so we're just focusing on the now."

"Have you slept with him?"

Heat flamed across my face. I ducked my head, my hair falling in front of my face, and picked up a piece of lettuce that was stuck to the floor. "No," I told her. "He wants to go out of town this weekend though."

Rosalie clapped her hands gleefully. "You know that's guy code for we're gonna screw this weekend right?"

I shook my head at her. "It is not. It's not code for anything," I protested.

She gave me a knowing smile and said, "we'll see about that when you get back."

"Bitch," I muttered.

"Shut up you love me. I'm kind of jealous."

"What? Why?" I asked.

"You get to have sex with the hot ass bartender," she pouted. "I should have called dibs."

"He is pretty hot, right?"

Rosalie shot me a look. "Do not rub it in. I will kick you in the knee. I could always seduce Jacob."

I gagged reflexively.

"Oh please," she said airily. "He is not that bad."

"Yes, he is," I said vehemently. "He's repulsive and cocky and arrogant. Oh wait, I forgot who I was talking to. Those are your favorite qualities in a man."

"Rawr, catty much?" she retorted. "He really isn't that bad. I mean, once you get past the cocky arrogant parts. He's actually a pretty decent guy. And I mean think about it this way, what if it was you and me and the roles were reversed. You'd give him the speech if you had to."

"Yeah, but that's different. We're girls, guys don't think the way we do. They're just worried about getting laid and stuff like that. Some of us don't want to be another notch in the bedpost. So yeah, I'd give him the speech, but I don't know. It's just different."

Rosalie shrugged. "If you say so."

"Well, I do so stop defending him and just let me hate him a little bit."

Two hours later, we plopped down on the couch, the house having finally been returned to a state of normalcy. Rosalie grabbed a throw pillow and held it to her chest. "Can I ask you something?"

I turned on the couch, tucking my knees underneath me. "Yeah, of course."

"It's about what we were talking about earlier, about you leaving at the end of the summer. Would you ever consider staying here and applying to one of the colleges around here?"

I thought about it before answering her. I knew I wouldn't, Columbia was a great school and it would be a great school to have on my applications. It was nothing about the schools here, but I couldn't even begin to think about how I would explain changing schools in my last year of med school. I shook my head no and said, "I couldn't. I know Columbia, I know the professors and I know what to expect. I don't think it would be a wise decision to change schools in my last year. Future employers would look at that and wonder why I did it. I mean, I could always say it was because of my dad, but that's a lie and I would know it was a lie and I wouldn't feel right lying about something like that."

"I can respect that."

"Why did you want to know?" I asked her.

"I just wanted to see if you were finally putting yourself first," she replied.

"And am I?"

Rosalie nodded. "Yes, you are. Any other girl in your position would transfer to a closer university in a heartbeat to be with her boyfriend. You're not. I know you never would have, you're too goal oriented, but you're not doing it because you don't want to. You want to stay in New York. Edward wants you here, but you're choosing New York. You put yourself and your wants and desires before his. I'm proud of you."

"It doesn't make me selfish?"

"Absolutely not. Why should it? It's not like he would pack up his life and move to New York for you, so why should you do it for him?"

"Good point," I said.

"Damn straight it is."

"Okay, now it's my turn to ask you a question," I said.

"Go for it."

"Is this weekend out of town trip really code for 'its time to fuck?'"

Rosalie burst out laughing, her brunette locks shimmering in the lamp light. "Bells goody two shoes said fuck," she howled with laughter.

"Shut up!" I said, throwing a pillow at her.

She caught it and threw it back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she sang.

"Damnit, Rosalie, just answer my question."

"Okay," she said still giggling. "In my experience, yes, that's what it means. But Edward might be different, he might just want to take you away so y'all can have some time alone together."

"Which still surprising sounds like the guy code."

"Why don't you just ask him then?"

"Because I don't want to sound like a prude. Or worse, a slut."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Why is everything so difficult for you. Either sleep with him, or don't. It's not that hard."

"That's what she said."

"Oh my god, shut up. I think having sex with that disgustingly sexy man would do your ass some good."


End file.
